


time is love

by skatzaa



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/F, Intimacy, No Smut, Sexting, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 16:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13930506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: Asami double checks the time, but there’s still five minutes until the meeting, so she types in the passcode—And nearly drops the phone.Actually, she does drop it, a little, but she also catches it again, so it doesn’t count.It’s not even a particularly revealing picture—just Korra, expression devious, sitting on their bed in a pair of boy shorts and her favorite plaid flannel, which is unbuttoned just enough to show the soft curve of her breast, nothing more—but the message is clear, even if there’s no text accompanying it:I wish you were here.





	time is love

**Author's Note:**

> Don't even know what to tell you at this point, except for the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing. 
> 
> Title from the country song by the same name bc I love country music that lets me sing about how much I love women, lol

Asami is preparing for her last meeting of the day on a particularly busy Friday when her phone, which is on do not disturb, vibrates. That can only mean one thing: Korra.

She opens her desk drawer and pulls out the phone. The screen is lit up, showing one new notification, a picture message from  **Korra [heart] [flexed biceps] [smiling face with sunglasses]** . Like always, Asami shakes her head at the emojis Korra picked out when they first started dating, but she’s also smiling fondly and has no plans to change them any time soon. She double checks the time, but there’s still five minutes until the meeting, so she types in the passcode —

And nearly drops the phone.

Actually, she  _ does  _ drop it, a little, but she also catches it again, so it doesn’t count. 

Asami glances at the door. It’s closed. Asami looks back at the phone screen, taps on the picture to make if full sized. And oh  _ god _ . Heat rushes through her body as she stares at the photo, and she’s pretty sure her face is practically on fire.

It’s not even a particularly revealing picture—just Korra, expression devious, sitting on their bed in a pair of boy shorts and her favorite plaid flannel, which is unbuttoned just enough to show the soft curve of her breast, nothing more—but the message is clear, even if there’s no text accompanying it:  _ I wish you were here _ .

Asami closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. And then takes another one.

Of course, that’s when her new assistant, a rather surly young man named Ryu, knocks on her door and calls out, “Your four o’clock appointment is here.”

Asami clicks the power button and puts the phone back in the drawer, closing it as she stands. She smoothes down her skirt, straightens the cuffs of her button down, and says, “Yes. Send them in.”

The door swings open to reveal Mayor Raiko, who steps inside without acknowledging Ryu further. Asami wonders if he’s mad that Ryu made him sound like just another meeting, rather than someone important, and she has to hide a smile by looking down and pursing her lips; she wouldn’t be surprised if Ryu had absolutely no idea who Raiko was. Ryu closes the door none too gently behind him.

Asami steps out from behind the desk and walks forward a few steps, hand already extended, a pleasant smile tacked on her face.

Raiko shakes her hand. “Miss Sato,” he says. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Asami herds him toward the desk, and they both seat themselves as she says, “Actually, it’s Mrs. Sato now. I recently got married.”

Raiko looks pained, briefly, before schooling his expression once more. Asami hasn’t forgotten that he tried to veto the marriage equality act when it was first passed by the state senate.

“Yes, I do remember hearing something about that,” Raiko says. Both of them are very aware of the fact that he wasn’t invited, which was more or less a political slap in the face, with Asami and Korra being such high profile figures in the area. Asami doesn’t regret it. “Congratulations, of course. And your, ah, wife. What is it she does again?”

Asami doesn’t let herself react to that the way she wants to.

“Korra is social worker. She primarily takes on high risk cases.” Raiko’s moustache twitches at that, so Asami adds, even though he already knows this, just because she wants to rub it in a little, “She’s also won six gold medals as an Olympic swimmer.”

There’s not much Raiko can say about that, so he tactfully steers the conversation towards the actual reason why he’s here. Asami plays along.

She doesn’t like Raiko, and never has. They met long before she and Korra started dating, before Raiko started campaigning to be mayor and Asami inherited her father’s company and had to rebuild it from the ground up. He’s always been something of an asshole, and power has only made it worse.

But the city is one of Future Industries’ biggest contracts, so Asami has always done her best to push her personal feelings to the side for the sake of the company. It works, for the most part. 

She has a very hard time focusing today, though, because she’d rather be anywhere but here, discussing minor infrastructural changes to the city’s subway system that Raiko wants Future Industries to subcontract out, in order to cut costs. Asami puts her foot down on that, because she won’t trust this sort of work to anyone but her people, and it sets them off in earnest.

Well, that’s a bit of a mistruth. She wouldn’t rather be  _ anywhere _ ; she knows exactly where she would like to be: at home with Korra, carefully undoing the rest of those buttons and pressing kisses to every bit of exposed skin that she can reach. Running her hands over the muscles of Korra’s arms, her thighs, her back. Slipping a finger under the waistband of Korra’s boy shorts, and slowly,  _ slowly _ pulling them down.

Raiko clears his throat, and Asami jolts back into her office. Her face is burning. Raiko does not look amused when he asks, “Is there something on your mind, Miss Sato?”

Asami doesn’t bother to correct him, because he’s just going to continue being an ass about it. Instead she glances at the clock hanging on the far wall,  and wants to cry with relief when she sees the time.

“Unfortunately, Mayor, we’re going to have to finish this conversation another time,” she says, as professionally as she can manage. Raiko’s expression could curdle milk. “It’s nearly five o’clock, and I would hate to make you late for your charity gala tonight. Especially when it’s for such a good cause.”

A charity gala that was meant to raise money for LGBTQ+ youth, and one Asami wasn’t invited to because Asami has pull in this city but Raiko has more. She’s not annoyed about the snub anymore, though. If she had been invited, she would have had to go through all the extra trouble of letting the organizers know at the last minute that she would not, in fact, be attending, because there is no way she’s doing anything but going straight home to Korra.

Raiko checks his watch.

“So it would seem.” They stand, and shake hands once more across the desk. “I will have my assistant contact you in order to arrange another appointment time,” he says, like he doesn’t know that Asami has her own assistant to make appointments for her. Raiko nods his head, ever the politician, and turns to leave. “A pleasure, as always, Miss Sato.”

Asami doesn’t see him to the door.

 

*

 

She calls Mako on her drive home.

“—And then he insinuated that I have to make all my own appointments! Like I’m not the CEO of the biggest company in the state!” she says, voice pitched high with frustration. She takes the next corner so fast her briefcase ends up on the floor in the backseat, but that doesn’t matter. “ _ And _ he’s going to that gala tonight where he’s going to pretend like he’s not some sort of— of bigot!  _ I _ wasn’t even invited, and I have a  _ wife _ !”

Mako sighs. If her car wasn’t the latest model Satomobile, the static through the bluetooth would be annoying. She won’t ever admit it to anyone, but she had her people focus on the sound and bluetooth system for this most recent redesign because of how often Mako ends up sighing when they’re on the phone together.

“You know I can’t say anything bad about him,” Mako says, just like he does every time Asami calls to complain about Raiko. “He’s technically my boss.”

“No.” The light ahead of her seemingly skips straight from green to red. Asami hits the brakes, hard. “The police commissioner is your boss.”

Mako sighs again. “And he’s her boss.” His voice gets more distant, like he’s put the phone on speaker mode and then placed it down on something. “Speaking of Beifong. She put me on a protection detail for some sort of visiting dignitary, in addition to his normal guards. He’s going to be at the gala tonight.”

The light turns green, and Asami steps on the gas, harder than is strictly necessary.

“Does that mean you need to get ready? Should I let you go?”

“Why would I need to get ready? I’m just wearing my uniform, right?”

Asami laughs at his genuine confusion. “Oh, Mako.”

“What?” he asks, which makes her laugh harder. “What’s wrong with my uniform?”

“Nothing,” she says, feeling decidedly less homicidal now. She eases her foot on the brake, turns on her blinker for the first time all evening, and pulls onto their street. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. I’m almost home now, so I’ll let you go. Call me to let me know how your security detail went, although,” she lets a bit of mischief color her voice, “I probably won’t be answering the phone until tomorrow afternoon, at the earliest.”

He groans theatrically. “ _ Asami _ .”

She grins, though he can’t see it, and then softens. “Seriously, though, Mako. Thank you.”

“No worries, ‘Sami,” he says. “I’ll see you next week for brunch, right?”

“Absolutely,” Asami tells him. 

They say their goodbyes just before she pulls into the garage below their building and the service cuts out. It takes a minute to find an empty space and park the car, and by that point she’s pretty much calmed down completely. It’s tempting to just leave her briefcase in the car, but she’s trying to pretend like she’s actually a mature adult who can function even after her wife sends her a somewhat revealing picture.

So Asami gathers her briefcase and phone, makes sure to lock the car behind her, and climbs the stairs to their home.

The apartment is quiet when she opens the door and hangs her keys on the hook. She slips her heels off, careful not to catch anything on her panty hose and create a run in the fabric.

She walk through the entryway and living room, her bare feet nearly silent on the hardwood floors. Her eyes are on the bedroom door, half open.

Asami pushes the door open the rest of the way. She takes one look inside and leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms and smiling to herself. 

Korra is asleep on their bed—on Asami’s side, too—with her hair a mess around her face and her shirt bunched up around her rib cage. There’s going to be drool on Asami’s pillowcase, but she can’t make herself care. 

She stands there for another minute or two, watching as Korra wakes herself up slowly. It’s cute, and involves a lot of grumbling and sighing. Then she rolls onto her back, and Asami has to laugh a little because there are wrinkles from the pillowcase pressed into Korra’s cheek.

When Korra spots her, she gives a sleepy smile that’s far too innocent for all the trouble her little picture caused, but Asami can’t even pretend to be mad. Korra says, her voice a little rough, “Hey baby. You’re home.”

“Did you enjoy your nap?” she asks. 

Korra huffs out a sheepish laugh and rubs at the marks on her face. “Yeah. Didn’t mean to.”

She pats at the bed, a clear invitation, but Asami stays where she is for now. She asks, “You finished early at court?”

“Mm,” Korra manages. She looks as though she’s about to fall asleep again for a moment, but then rallies herself valiantly. “Kai’s guardians didn’t kick up a fuss about giving up custody to Tenzin and Pema. I took them out for a celebratory lunch, then came back home.”

Asami watches, fond, as Korra finally sits up and stretches. Her hair is still a mess, and the sheets are tangled around her legs. Korra finishes stretching and pouts at Asami. She pats at the mattress again hopefully, saying, “Will you come to bed now?”

“You send that photo right before my meeting with Raiko,” Asami says, straightening up. Korra shamelessly eyes her. “I had to sit through a whole meeting with him when all I could think of was coming home to you.”

Korra smiles at her again, and this time it’s a little wicked. She knew exactly what she was doing when she sent it, of course. Probably even knew who Asami’s last meeting of the day was, because Ryu actually seems to like Korra, despite their... less than cordial first meeting.

Asami reaches up, pulls the clip from her hair, and sweeps it all over one shoulder. She also watches Korra watch her do it. As a little bit of revenge, she weaves her fingers into the hair at the base of her skull and tugs, just a little. It’s something she normally does to help herself relax, but she also plays up the relief a little, letting her sigh slide closer to a groan. She can hear Korra’s breath hitch, even from across the room, and so she decides that’s enough of that.

Korra’s flannel is still half unbuttoned, and Asami intends to finish the job her wife apparently started without her.

And she most certainly does.

**Author's Note:**

> And I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;)
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Read on,  
> Skats


End file.
